


it takes strength (you gave it to me)

by AsunaChinaDoll



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: And the Best Dad, Angst, Canon Compliant, Din Djarin Is a Sweetheart, During Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, ManDadlorian, Missing Scene, Precious Baby Yoda, Rewrite, Scene Rewrite, during season 2:chapter 16, i really want to hug them pls, the proper dad and son reunion/goodbye scene we deserved, yeah i wrote the ending a lil different
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsunaChinaDoll/pseuds/AsunaChinaDoll
Summary: The Mandalorian watches the child silently, and something jagged in his chest comes loose, sinking slowly to the pit of his stomach. He glances between the child and the camera feed, the child’s palm pressed to the screen. The Mandalorian swallows.He knows.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda
Comments: 77
Kudos: 341





	it takes strength (you gave it to me)

**Author's Note:**

> LOLLLL so I've been emotionally and physically destroyed since the season finale and this is the only way I can cope with that. Thank goodness for fic, right? 
> 
> Hope you like this <333

There is something about the cloaked man. 

It is in every swing of his laser sword, his boots gliding across the floor with ease. In the squareness of his shoulders. How he carries himself with nothing less than calm regality. 

In the way the child looks at him from the live video feed. 

The Mandalorian watches the child silently, and something jagged in his chest comes loose, sinking slowly to the pit of his stomach. He glances between the child and the camera feed, the child’s palm pressed to the screen. The Mandalorian swallows.

He knows.

“Are you a Jedi?” He asks anyway. 

“I am,” the man replies. He looks at the child. He lifts his hand. “Come, little one.”

The child meets the Mandalorian’s gaze, tilting his head, dark eyes against his visor. His chest tightens. He is not ready. He is not ready.

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” the Mandalorian lies. His voice is rough even to his own ears, and he sets his jaw. 

There is understanding in the man’s eyes. He says gently, “He wants your permission.”

The jagged piece sinks lower. He inhales shakily.

“He is strong in the Force,” the man continues, “but talent without training is nothing. He will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”    
  


And the Mandalorian knows that, he  _ knows _ , but he just got the kid back, they need time.  _ He needs time. _

He lets his feet carry him to the child, lifting him into his arms. He cradles him close. The child coos softly, and that is his undoing. 

“Could I—could I just—” The Mandalorian’s throat strains against the swell of emotion, and he inhales through his nose, out through his mouth. 

_ Please. I just need more time.  _

The man’s gaze is soft as he looks at them, and he nods. “Take as much time as you need.”

The Mandalorian nods in return. Then, he’s quickly striding out of the room with the child in tow, ignoring the eyes on his back. He walks down the hall, stepping over droid parts, and turns around the first corner. 

His steps slow to a gradual stop, and he leans against the wall, exhaling shakily. The child makes a small noise of concern, blunt nails tapping lightly against his chest plate. He looks down.

“Sorry,” the Mandalorian mutters. “I just need a moment.”

The child stares at him wordlessly, black eyes big and sweet. It soothes the line of tension in his shoulders, and he doesn’t look away as he lowers to the floor. Quiet settles between them. 

Then, the child lifts his hand, patting gently against his collarbone. The corner of his mouth lifts. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The child coos as he scans his small form, gloved fingers ghosting over the child’s head and his robe for injuries. He finds none, and the breath he takes afterward feels a little fuller. He sets a hand atop the child’s head, and there’s a stabbing bloom of warmth in his chest when the child leans into his touch greedily. He sighs.

“I missed you, kid,” he murmurs. “So much.” 

He removes his hand, the child’s eyes wide and bright, and for the life of him he doesn’t know what he did to deserve that look from the child. There’s a sudden lump in his throat, and he struggles to swallow around it.

“I’m sorry,” bursts from the Mandalorian’s lips, and he doesn’t know where the words came from, but he can’t stop. He chokes out, “I’m sorry. About Tython. About everything.”

His eyes start to burn, and he shuts them, dipping his chin as his breaths run ragged. 

_ I don’t want to do this. _

_ I don’t want to do this. _

Then, there’s a slight pressure against the crown of his helmet, and his breath stutters. The child coos lowly, clinging tight to him, nuzzling against his visor. The line of his mouth trembles, and he clutches the child’s robe. He inhales slowly.

He knows what he needs to do. 

He lifts his head and grips the lip of his helmet with his free hand. The child watches him, and he removes it.

The Mandalorian sets his helmet on the floor beside them, but his gaze, something weighty and fond, remains on the child. The child’s eyes widen slightly, taking in his face. He presses a small palm to his cheek, cooing softly as he brushes away a stray tear. 

“Hi,” he rasps. He gives a weak, crooked smile. “This is me.”

The child’s eyes light up at that, and he grins back, showing off his little row of teeth. It makes the Mandalorian laugh, a little surprised and wet, as small hands pat over his cheeks, his nose, his lips. 

(He feels their time running out, slipping through his fingers like sand. 

_ Just a few more minutes _ , he begs. 

His heart aches something fierce, and all he asks is for a few more precious minutes.)

The Mandalorian takes a deep breath, steeling himself. He takes one of the child’s hands between his thumb and forefinger. Gently soothes a line across the child’s knuckles.

“I guess this is it, huh?”

Swallow. Breathe. Ache.

“The nice man… He’s of your kind. That’s who you belong with.” 

The child reaches out, grazing his jaw. He smiles.

“Don’t be afraid, Grogu,” he says. “We’ll see each other again. I promise.”

The Mandalorian leans forward and presses a kiss to the child’s forehead. He lingers for just a moment, breathes in and out, aches. The child coos as he pulls away. He picks up his helmet and slips it back on.

“Alright, pal,” he murmurs, “it’s time to go.”

* * *

The Mandalorian watches them step into the elevator. His eyes are drawn to the child, before he looks to the Jedi.

“What’s your name?” He asks. 

“Luke,” he answers. “Luke Skywalker.”

He nods. “Take care of him. He’s very special.”

Luke smiles kindly. “He is. I will give my life to protect him.”

He feels a little better at those words.

“May the Force be with you,” says Luke.

The Mandalorian looks at the child again. The corner of his mouth twitches up, and he nods to him. The child lifts his hand in a wave.

The doors slide shut. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Goodbye, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading this! Let me know what you think in the comments, or feel free to talk about the ending. I really appreciate the support. Stay safe folks <333
> 
> Please feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](https://asunachinadoll.tumblr.com/) so we can be broken and sad about the ending together :'))))


End file.
